Loving the Legend (Chasing Rings, #1)

by Kit Grey

“Even when you’re sinking through life’s muck, you reach out for help and keep going.”

They mattered. Their sacrifices mattered. Their hopes and dreams for me mattered.

She said that tears are the overflow of a brimming heart.

“I don’t know where I’d be without you.” The raw honesty of that truth causes a prick behind my eyes. Without Adam, I’d have no one. God knows where I would be today. Despite his grief, he picked up where my parents left off and helped make today come true. “As long as my heart beats, I’ll always be here, kid,” he says, squeezing my shoulders.

Having features from both of my parents makes me feel closer to them. I used to resent the moniker “Pretty Boy,” which most people assume refers to my looks, until I realized that I am what’s left of both of my parents. Besides Adam, I’m the last living trace of their love. I will only ever feel proud of that.

🥺🥺🥺

Our gazes lock, and that lethal half-smile, half-smirk splits across his face. All heads turn in his direction, and I’m grateful it isn’t just me experiencing his magnetism. I thought I’d feel small next to his towering presence, but I’m taller somehow. Rare.

😏😏😏

asked her what she saw when she meditated. She imagined a utopia with crystal clear waters with healing properties so potent that a few minutes of soaking soothed all the aches from her body. Lilies, poppies, and lavender covered the land, but jasmine perfumed the air. Elephants and gentle wild cats roamed. A grand swing swept her up to an enchanted house at the summit of a mountain. Inside the house was a room with a large bed full of the fluffiest pillows and softest bedding. She had the best naps of her life there. Glass walls offered sweeping views of the land. She said it was the safest place in the universe where nothing bad could happen—a land where her soul dwelled. I am strangely reminded of Mom’s utopia, gazing into the depths of Sid’s eyes.

“You know, most college nicknames are ridiculous, but yours tracks,” he says. The brimming, resonant tone of his voice passes through me like a gentle charge. I take a steadying breath. “Is that right?” Wait, did he just say that I’m pretty? I accept the compliment instead of clarifying the true meaning of my moniker.

“Hello, people of the world, I’m Sid King, and this is Ty Washington, and like me, you can see he’s awful pretty,” he says, spot-on impersonating a famous boxer.

Sid is so smooth 😍

Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next…You must look into that storm and shout, ‘Do your worst, for I will do mine!’ Then the fates will know you as we know you.”

“There’s freedom in accepting the ephemeral nature of life. We spend so much time fearing the end. I choose to appreciate the current moment for what it is.”

Neither one of us makes a move to separate. Our gazes lock and it’s like that day in the gym all over again. The air around us sizzles like we’re in a heatwave and not the dead of winter. His gaze trails over my face, one suspended second after another until it reaches my lips where it stills. An involuntary grin spreads across my face. “Damn. Those dimples. I’m sure the ladies eat their hearts out,” he says, voice sliding an octave. A heat-generating vibration spreads up my spine and unfolds into a tingling massage. He could say the sky’s blue in that velvety voice, and you’d think he was seducing you.

I think about Sid and our interview every day. I’ve never met anyone who can both lower my guard and throw my body completely out of whack.

We’re all haunted in some way—whether by the secrets we protect, the truths we deny, or the inexplicable ugliness life throws our way.”

His words are a sunburst in the middle of my chest. It’s not just that I’m seen. More miraculously, he makes me want to be seen.

Yup, hugging Sid feels like what I imagined—being swaddled.

A comforting peace settles within me from feeling like I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

I only purchase art that makes me feel good. I skip all pretenses. I stand before a piece of art and observe it. I pay attention to what comes up for me, and if it’s a feeling that I want to hold on to, I’ll buy it.

I steal a glance in his direction. My breath catches when our gazes lock. A second passes, followed by another, and then another. Maybe it’s the refraction of the incandescent lighting that leads to the discovery of brass specks punctuating his irises. The longer I stare, the more the ground shifts, and I free-fall into his depths. “Mmm, like liquid gold,” I mutter to myself.

Damn this chemistry 🥵

What’s the part of the brain that processes sensory experiences? I aced biology—I should know this. The somatic cortex? Whatever it’s called, something about his energy sends mine into overdrive.

How’d I sleep? Oh, you know, I’m loving the idea of having sex with your son so much that I was up all night jerking off and freaking out.

I rub my neck. “What about your first game?” “My mom took me for my sixth birthday. She’d been saving up for a long time. I’d experienced nothing like it. The players were giants. At one point, I even wondered if they were gods. The excitement in the arena…my entire body felt like a beating heart. Even my skin had a pulse.” He shakes his head. “It was the purest form of euphoria. I’ve been chasing that feeling ever since. I catch strains of it from time to time, but nothing has ever come close.” He clears his throat. “That’s until the night I saw you play. My palms, my throat, and the blood under my skin vibrated. You ran—no—you commanded the court like the sky would fall if your team missed a play. No one wanted it more than you. You were exceptional.” Damn.

Fuck my life. He’s such a wet dream. He’s my dream.

He possesses a nourishing warmth that seeps into my bones and reminds me of what it’s like to be untethered from grief.

Thanks for sleeping with me, Pretty Boy

Sid Playing basketball, opening presents, watching movies, stretching, sleeping, interviewing… Me ? Sid All the things you look pretty doing

Gahhh Sid is so cute 😍

“You want to touch a winner so bad—go ahead.”

raise his tee over my head and pause. My eyes close, inhaling its scent. It’s him—the scent that’s missing from the cologne. I think the move goes unnoticed, but when my head emerges through the neck of the shirt, his lips are turned slightly upward.

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Washington, I pray for your souls to rest in eternal peace. Those who are loved live on in the hearts of those who hold them dear. Though it feels like I’ve known him for a lifetime, I’ve only known your son for a short while, but it’s clear he loves you deeply. It’s said that true friendship is rare. Then, I shall count my blessings daily and cherish the friendship that I have with your son, who I imagine is a reflection of all of your light and love. May peace be upon you. A friend of your son, Sidney King.”

Fuckkkk SID!!!! He’s so dreamy 😍🥹

God, if there was ever a time when someone could point to a moment and say “And that’s when I knew for sure that I was falling for him,” this moment would take the cake.

Me too Ty, me too.

Thank you for the deep love and care that you’ve shown me. There wasn’t a day under your roof that I didn’t feel loved. I know I say it every year, but really, Unc has done an amazing job picking up where you left off. You would be proud of the father he’s become. I hope you’re proud of the choices that I’ve made.”

It’s so sad he lost parents like that, I’m glad he had his uncle.🥺

“He and I keep each other rooted to this earth, and though I’d give anything to have you back, I’m honored to have raised your boy with all the love in my heart. Rest easy, beloved.”

I swallow, but my throat is lodged. I can’t lose him. “Tyler, breathe!” I’d have no one if I lost him. My chest is pounding. I won’t be alone because I won’t stay. I made a promise ages ago. Fire takes him, water takes me. God knows. It’ll be easy. The beach near my house is always empty before sunrise. I mean it. There’d be nothing left for me here.

Omg Ty 🥺🥺🥺

“I like watching you nibble on your lip,” he confesses. Fuck, that’s a new kind of honesty for him. If only he knew that I nibble on my lip because he’s delicious.

Thinking about the future causes anxiety. Thinking about the past binds us to old memories and feelings. Our power is in the present.”

He’s so handsome, it’s stunning. His eyes gaze over my face as if he’s committing it to memory.

“I was staying at my friend’s house for Christmas, and I fell asleep in his home cinema. As I was heading to my bedroom in the middle of the night, I saw him getting head from his fr—casual lover and it hit me—I wanted to be the one fucking him.”

“God, I’ve wanted to taste you since the first time I met you,” he pants, nibbling on my bottom lip.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” My mouth waters. “I’ve never wanted to give head more in my life.” He gives me a sexy-as-sin smirk that makes my blood pulse.

He pants. “How are you so good at this?” The question makes me grin. “I’ve had time to think about—” I brush a kiss against his sexy lips as I continue to stroke him. “Mmmm. I’ve had time to think about all the ways I want to taste, suck, and fucking explore every inch of you.”

“God, Sid,” I moan as I push back against him, deepening the friction between us. He strokes me through my orgasm. “I plan to make you come over and over, baby,” he whispers.

“I want it. Don’t stop.” I moan when he kisses the spot tenderly. “Honestly, the thought of seeing you in interviews with my hickey on your neck…fuck.” His hard length slides between the globes of my ass. “What is it about you that makes me possessive, like a caveman?”

amount of lube. The idea of waking Sid up with head…damn. I reach down and stroke myself. “That turns you on?” He zeroes in on my erection as my slit glistens with pre-cum. “Going down on me when I sleep?” “Yeah,” I grunt, stroking myself. “Fuck…that’s hot. Have me anytime.”

“Fuck. I’m going to come just from the sounds coming out of you.”

I can’t control the tremors coursing through me. Each roll of his hips sends more waves throughout my body, sending a shooting sensation behind my eyes. What the ever-loving fuck is a prostate orgasm? How is my dick still hard? “Fuck,” I pant. “I’ve never…” My brain wipes out as he pulls out and slams back in. “Fuuck.” “Hmm?” He’s fucked the words out of me, and by the mischievous smile on his face, he knows it.

If I never make a good decision again, I can revel in knowing that choosing Sid, the god of sex, to take my anal virginity is the best decision I ever made. I can’t believe I almost had my first time with someone else. Of course it had to be him.

Cupping my face, he pulls me into a spine-tingling kiss. “I’m so fucking lucky,” he whispers against my lips once we separate.

He fucks me slowly…rolling his hips as our tongues tangle and our mouths drink our moans. My back arches as I gyrate in slow circles on his cock. Our kiss turns wet, sloppy, and desperate. His eyes squeeze closed as his head presses back into the pillow. The only warning before he cups my ass and deepens his thrusts. “Sid,” I rasp as he slides against my prostate. “God, you’re so tight.” He moans. “I love how you feel.”

I cry out in ecstasy as my vision turns cloudy. “You’re beautiful,” he says, as tears slip from the corners of my eyes. His eyes hold a storm of emotions too.

I close my eyes and let my head fall back as I ride him. “No, no, let me see you,” he whispers. I can’t. I don’t know what’s happening to me or why this is so intense. “Please, baby.” His soft plea squeezes my chest, and I muster the courage to meet his gaze. “I want to see you,” he says, slowing his thrusts. “What are you doing to me?” I whisper, quickly wiping my eyes. “I could ask the same thing,” he says, voice shaky. “I’m close…fuck. I want to stay in you all night.”